Talking to My Reflection
by Machinist's Guardian Archangel
Summary: It's been over a month since the Reapers hit Earth, sending Shepard off the planet to save the galaxy again. And it's been almost eight months since the last time he saw Tali, who he's missing more by the day. Desperate to reach her, and even more so to feel like something is going right, he sends her a message. Rated T for some brief strong language (two F-bombs, little else).


My fingers drum a loose rhythm the table, inches away from the button they need to hit sooner or later. It's strange, something so small and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Maybe not to us, but next to the Genophage, it pales in comparison. Why the Hell is this harder? I've got the scrap of paper for guidance, door locked, Traynor knows not to bug me tonight, and Cortez's magic tea in a warm mug. Hell, even Ellie and the fish are fed. Nothing's standing in the way… Other than my head.

Screw it. I make a fist and hit the record button harder than needed, just so I can't back out at the last second. The monitor lights up brighter than before, with a red icon in the top left. Looks like it's working. I sigh and swallow hard while searching for the words. Damn things left my mind again.

"Hey, baby girl," I manage with a slight shudder in my voice. "Well, let me get one thing straight first. If you get, like, nine copies of this, there's a reason. We never really had email communication before, so I didn't know what your address was, or where to start looking. I asked Liara and her little drone, she calls it Glyph now, to do some digging and find me something. They gave me… basically every digital address you've ever had. We weren't sure which you were still using, so I decided it'd be easiest to send a copy to all and hope you still checked at least one of them. Sorry if I come off as a stalker boyfr-, uh, crazy stalker, but… I just wanted to make sure you saw this. And, uh, if I seem weird about topic jumping, I made a list of things I wanted to say. So don't be surprised if I go off on some random tangent, then make a hard right for no reason. Just a fair warning."

I lean back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. For some reason, it gets me to relax a little bit. Another sip of the slightly bitter tea helps too. It takes a blink or two for the room to come back into focus when I'm done. "Let's see… I suppose the first thing is my situation. All things considered, it could be a lot worse. I'm officially reinstated as Alliance Commander and Council Spectre, in charge of the Normandy again. It's basically the same business as before: I've got a vague goal to complete, very few people telling me how to do it, and enough crazies on either side to make it interesting. Some of our friends are already back on board, including Vakarian, Joker, and Liara. There's people looking after me while you're gone, don't worry. I finally got to visit Grissom Academy, Surkesh, a few other weird places. It's an experience.

"I'll go over that more later. That's why it's on the notes. I'll stick to that for now, try to keep myself somewhat organized." I wave the Manila paper in front of the camera, ink scribbles clear on the high-res screen. "What's first…? 'Stay on Earth.' That wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. Just annoying and tiresome. I wasn't officially charged with anything, so no real punishments. The brass was freaked out because of the Alpha Relay, can't say I blame them, and wanted to get me somewhere I wasn't going to cause any more trouble. Grounding me did that, kept the Batarians at bay, made most of the galaxy think I still had someone to report to. A lot of them did want to see me court-martialed, a few executed, but there was so much argument about it, no one knew what to do. Anderson saw to it I was treated well enough.

"I was kept mostly in Canada, got bounced between a few different bases until they settled on Vancouver. They gave me basically a hotel room in the HQ there, left a dozen guards to make sure I didn't leave or talk to anyone I wasn't supposed to. After it sank in I wasn't going to try anything stupid, they gave me some privileges and less guards. Anderson ran through his friends list, and I ended up with a decent set-up. I was allowed to go to the gym and train whenever I wanted, got a computer, TV, and a bunch of books. Their only concern was that I didn't try to contact Cerberus, so they didn't give a shit beyond that. Hell, I even got IT to help me install a gaming emulator on my rig. I'm still curious if the other players in my lobbies knew they'd been screened before being allowed to play.

"The only thing the Alliance wanted from me was a bunch of debriefs, so it left me a lot of free time after I got settled in. Every other day, I had to tell the same stories to a different interviewer for an hour or two, and that was about it. I divided the rest of my time gaming, reading, and hitting the gym with one of the guards, Vega. That was it for about six months… Well, until the Reapers hit. I'll give you the short version: I got off-world by 'borrowing' the Normandy. Vega, Joker, Ashley, and I made it. Yeah, ran into her again, on the day of the Reaper invasion, if that's not an omen. Anderson stayed behind to organize the resistance, we got out of Dodge as fast as we could."

I take another swig of tea, trying to bury the cold anger in my chest with the warm liquid. Part of me wants to keep talking about it, get it out in the open and see if it doesn't make some of the pain go away. Maybe I'll be able to sleep again if I share the kid with someone else. The rational part knows it's a bad idea. Last thing I need is to worry Tali, not when we can't even talk about it. Chakwas' miracle pills will have to keep doing their job for a while. Stick with the list.

"Well, one down. Progress, right?" I try to chuckle. "Alright, next is, 'what's happening now.' That'll take a bit of explaining, I guess. Hmm... I've got to keep you kind of in the dark. I trust you, but not the channels this is going through. Short version is we're trying to build up some alliances. Getting the Krogan and Turians to work together is even harder than it sounds, and that's just the beginning. We figure if we can at least condense our forces into one, we can do something besides lose. Of course Cerberus is opposed to that, for whatever reason the Illusive Man can come up with this week. Let's just say it's not working out real well for him."

I twist my torso to either side, my spine's pops thanking me immediately. That extra bit of movement keeps my fidgeting under control too. "There we go. If it makes you feel any better, I've got a lot of the old gang helping me with this, and a new one you won't believe until you see him. I've somehow wrangled Mordin and Wrex back onto the crew, at least for a while. Ran into Jack at Grissom Academy. Get this: someone had the brilliant idea to make her a teacher. I'm not kidding," I laugh softly. "She was in charge of the biotic prodigies. And damn, if you thought she was scary before, you should've seen her when some Cerberus grunt wounded one of her kids. I think putting him in a wood chipper would've been more humane. Uh, Chakwas, Adams, Gabby, and Ken came along for the ride. They're all glad to be back, can't wait to see you again. Gabby misses having someone who can shut Ken up for more than two seconds. But, we're all doing fine."

Whatever happiness I deep in me disappears instantly when something else comes to mind. She really should know, at least to make her worry less. But dragging that memory back up isn't going to be pleasant. I suck down another large gulp of tea in preparation. "Suppose I should... should mention Ash. She's in a hospital on the Citadel. Stable, finally conscious, but pure luck is the only reason… Leaving Earth, I found out Liara was on Mars. Ash came with me to help find her, just in case. Ran into Cerberus, but we cut through them fine until we tried to exfil. There was a shuttle crash and I was stupid and let my guard down… They had some shackled AI mech or something, got a hold of Ash before I could react. It slammed her head into the shuttle hull three or four times hard enough to crack her helmet. I put a half-dozen rounds in the bastard's head, but the damage was already done. The doctors say it's a miracle we got her to them in time. She didn't even twitch for a week…"

I ball a fist under the desk, just out of the camera's view. A dozen different things swirl in my chest again, just like they did on Mars. Wonder if any of that shows on my face. "That got to me. A lot more than it probably should have. Or, I guess, than I expected. It brought up a lot of feelings I had forgotten about. Hell if I know why... She still hates me, you know. Still blames me for Horizon, still thinks I wanted to join Cerberus, that I did it to spite her. I mean, she called me a husk, like I was some corpse they controlled with puppet strings… And the last thing I said was she was never my friend if she believed that. I should almost be happy that happened to her then, huh? One less traitorous 'friend' to deal with.

"None of that mattered when she went down. I didn't see the angry bitch who screamed at me for things she'd imagined, or even the doubt she had about who I was anymore. I saw one of my friends almost die. All I wanted to do was fix it for her. It seems so stupid now. At least we, uh… made things clear. When she finally came to, we talked. She heard the rumor about us, asked if it was true. I told her yes, and she had another thing coming if she thought you and me being apart would send me back to her. She wasn't nearly as angry as I thought, but she was pretty adamant she didn't want that anyway. I think… maybe we can work it out enough we can be friends again, fingers crossed. For the best, I guess. Depending on, well, if things go the way I'm hoping, that'll make it less complicated."

The intercom chirps on, only compounding my foul mood. "Commander, Wrex is asking if-" Traynor begins.

"Specialist, what did I say?" I snap immediately. "I gave you an order: what was it?"

Clearly not the response she was expecting. "C-c-commander, Wrex said you would make an exception for-"

"The order."

"Not t-to disturb y-you except for an emergency," she stutters out.

I look over and realize the video's still recording. Of course… Might as well keep the show going, make sure Traynor listens this time. "That's right. Now, unless Reapers start appearing out of thin air, you, the birds, and the damn dinosaurs can wait. Do not interrupt me for anything less. Dismissed, Specialist."

I end the call, then unplug the intercom from the rest of the ship. The only way someone can get my attention tonight is if they start pounding on my door. I regain most of my composure, then turn back to the recording. My face still shows the brief rage. "Sorry. That was Traynor, our new comms specialist. Smart and a good kid, but green like no other.

"Look, don't worry about it, ok? I'll apologize tomorrow. It's just… tonight's the first time I've had more than an hour free without something of galactic importance being crammed down my throat. This is really important to me, and I want to get some rest before everything comes crashing down again tomorrow. So I'll fix it then. But, at least for a little while, I'm going to focus on you and me. Well, mostly me, I guess. I'm the one talking to my reflection on a monitor. I'm going to pause this and get a refill on my drink." My finger glides over to the button without too much mental resistance. The changing icon on top shows it worked.

There's a small instant brewer on the right corner of my desk, a few inches away from Ellie's tank. I slide the standard Alliance mug into it and select a single serving again. The water inside heats back up, gurgling while I walk into the bathroom. I relieve myself before washing my hands and face in the sink. A few splashes of cold water across my eyes and cheeks is strangely calming, considering it usually wakes me up. But it doesn't do much to settle the awkward swirl in my chest. I decide to let the water drip off for a minute or two instead of towel drying. It's easier to just hang my head over the sink.

The message is taking more out of me than I expected, and I haven't even hit the meaty part yet. Who'd've figured talking to a screen for twenty minutes would be so exhausting. Or maybe that's just the last couple months catching up with me... When did this get so hard? Dealing with this shit, or just talking about it. Used to be a few days of R&R would fix anything, maybe an hour with some music and a bottle of Jameson if it was really rough. Used to sleep and feel like I was fine for at least a few hours every night. Sank a big enough dent in the wall yesterday to prove that's no longer true. Here's hoping it's just a phase. Just the rainy season, Mom used to say.

The mirror's image doesn't say much either way. The slight bags under my eyes, the general lack of luster in my features prove it's been rough. Of course, the dampness in my skin and beard don't help that much. But nothing says how long it'll stay that way, though. No telltale gleam somewhere in my face that shows hope is still there, just waiting for a chance to prove all can be saved. There's no aura of utter darkness that says game over. Suppose that should be some sort of consolation: Limbo's a little better than Hell. And I'm still breathing, so there's that.

Alright, Commander. Enough self-pity. You've still got a video to finish. The gray towel to my right finishes off the rest of the water, leaving no trace of what's transpired mentally. I hang it up, then head back out for my tea. The mini-brewer's spit out the mint concoction, a warm, decaffeinated liquid with a green tint. I toss in a sugar cube and a bit of vanilla creamer that changes the taste to acceptable, and sip. Don't know where Cortez found this stuff, or what Chakwas told him to look for, but it is a decent muscle relaxer. It does a good job at making my body leave the stress in the field. In conjunction with the miracle pills, I can manage at least four or so hours of restless sleep a night.

Ellie raises herself on her back feet as I sit down, her front left paw flipping and swinging at me. I wave back, and she returns to eating the box I dropped in this morning. Good to see she's enjoying herself. My finger taps the desktop twice, and the screen awakens again. With a final touch, the recording begins again. "Just used the bathroom and got some more tea," I explain. Waving the mug in front of the camera proves the point. "Some kind of herbal stuff, supposed to help me relax. It's a good way to end the night, drinking at least one or two. Beats whiskey, right? Anyway, let's get back to the list."

I thumb past the topics I've already covered until I find the first one worth delving into. "Guess I should give you an update on the Normandy. She was your girl for quite a while, anyway. Uh… The Alliance started messing with her while I was under house arrest. Mostly inspections, according to Adams. They wanted to see how much of the blueprint got leaked to Cerberus. They were in the middle of that when we pulled out, so there's still remnants of that everywhere. Panels missing from the walls, wires running along the floor, some lights missing bulbs, everything you'd expect from an interrupted dry dock. They turned Mordin's lab into a comms center and a miniature war room, stuffed the armory down in the cargo bay, Liara commandeered Miranda's room, there's an Alliance paint job on the outside, but those are the biggest changes.

"Well, not counting our personal stuff. They moved and tossed out so many of our little things, I about killed the first engineer I could find. One of those bastards thought it would be funny to hide all of my models and guitar like it was some scavenger hunt. I found some in Jack's room, Life Support, in the Kodiak. Took me a week to find everything. Fish are gone, already starting to replace them, but someone you'll recognize is still around." I twist the camera up to the tank behind me, until the monitor shows my fluff ball munching. "Ellie, wave for Tali."

She understands the order just fine: she stops eating to flail her paw at me. "I'm still mystified how you taught her that. She escaped the engineers by hiding in the vents, probably eating their lunch scraps," I explain while putting the camera back on me. "I found her looking for my models. She climbed up my leg as soon as she saw me. I can tell she misses you more, though. I put a picture of you on the desk, and she tried to claw her way to it for three days…"

Realizing what I said about a second too late, I take another pull from the beverage and try to play it off. Maybe if I ignore it, she won't notice. Or maybe I'll forget it. "Uh, that's most of it for changes. All the upgrades we installed are still here. I'll have to give you another tour when you get onboard, but it won't be such a shock this time. Just have to get used to some of the smaller changes."

I reach for the paper again, finding where I left off quickly enough. "Let's see… Got that, been there… Why did I even write that one?" A sip of tea is timed perfectly with reaching the next good item on the list. "Ah. 'Beard's back.' I forgot about that. See, this is why I wrote all this down: I knew I'd forget something. So, yeah, I grew the goatee in again. It felt… appropriate, I guess is the word.

"I did enjoy not having it for a while. Had a few people, Anderson included, say I looked better without it. But I didn't feel quite right. Not all the time, just when things were serious or tense. I felt off, trying to be authoritative over the committee members that were debriefing me. And I had a gut feeling that I would be needed as a soldier when I got out. Call me superstitious, but if a bit of facial hair's going to help me fight, why not? If it makes you feel any better, I let the rest of my head hair grow out to compensate. I'm still technically within regs, but it's enough for you to run your fingers through." I do just that as a demonstration. "It might make me look a little less serious all the time. Hope the, uh, compromise works for you."

And here it comes. There's only a few small notes left for me to cover, the ones I've put off as much as I could. Who wouldn't, I suppose. "Well, homestretch, I guess. I've only got three more subjects on this thing. They're kind of wrapped up in each other, but… let's see how it goes.

"The first is, word for word, 'what made me think of this.' You might find this one kind of funny, actually. I, uh…" Another sip of flavored, decaffeinated water. "Saw multiple someones you'd never expect. Do you remember that Quarian-Turian couple we saw on Illium? They were over by Atheta's bar, the Quarian was complaining about her dating luck, he was trying to ease into a relationship with her. She friend zoned him, if that helps you jog your memory. They were on the Citadel.

"We made a stop there for some quick repairs and supplies yesterday. I went off on my own to a Presidium shop center for some smaller weapon upgrades and running a favor for Queen she-who-must-not-be-named. They were at the café I grabbed lunch at. It looks like she finally realized what he wanted, because they're together now. I didn't walk up and ask, but they were up against each other, laughing and hugging like nobody's business. And I just watched them for a few minutes."

I lean back in my chair for a few seconds to breathe some cool air. It helps settle me somewhat. "Their dynamic was really close to ours, you know? She was kind of flirty, but sweet and tried not to be public about it. He was protective and afraid something would steal her away. Hell, she was even eating the same salad you had that first day of leave. It kind of… hit me how much they reminded me of us. Brought back a lot of memories of our week in Nos Asta, before the Alpha.

"And then my head wandered back into that. It was like my brain started playing a movie, shut off the whole galaxy. There was that lunch again, the performances, the long walks through the mall. I could actually hear the things you said perfectly, like you singing and your remark about sunsets. Part of me was ecstatic to be there again, but… I hated knowing when I came back to reality, you wouldn't be there…"

Pain seeps into my left palm. I look and see an unintentional, improperly clenched fist is digging a nail in. A mental reminder to calm down makes my skin return from its bone white, tensed state. There's a little dent in the flesh that still stings a bit, but nothing too bad. I sigh to no one. "That's what made me think of you, anyway," I say, trying to play it off. "I hadn't heard from you, so I figured it couldn't hurt trying to get in touch. At least try to check up on you, right? Let you know I'm still out here. So, there's that."

For the first time all night, I scribble the covered topic off the list. Not sure why, but it gives some sense of closure. Or progress, or something. The tea's gone again, but I decide against another. The mug gives a slight clink when I set it on the desk. "Two to go. Alright… 'Where we left off…' Thinking about that now, it could've been worse, right? I mean, it's not like we said, 'Goodbye. May the door crush your hand on the way out.' But we really didn't say a lot about us, did we? No real plan for the future. Nothing that said one way or the other what we would do. Not whether or not we were still going to be… us when we saw each other again. Just a hopeful 'see you later.' Not exactly a story book ending, huh?"

I sigh, leaning forward until my elbows rest on my thighs. My hands clench each other below camera view. "I wouldn't blame you if you moved on. Just about anyone would in your place. You didn't know if we were ever going to see each other again, if I was even alive. Your boyfriend was locked up in a military prison for violating every galactic rule there was while spewing prophecy about Armageddon: since when is that part of a healthy relationship? Hell, it would be so much easier to forget about me and find someone else. More stable, or at least your own species.

"But is it crazy if I didn't? If I didn't look at a single woman the entire time? If the thought never crossed my mind to look for other options. If I still thought I was yours. That I always thought that I was still your boyfriend. And I hoped, I prayed, I begged… that you were still mine."

I laugh in one loud _ha,_ throwing my hands in the air. "There. I said it. I still try to convince myself that we're still together. That has to be just about the stupidest thing you've ever heard, doesn't it? We're separated by a million light years, no form of communication for months, every other possible option out there for either of us. Nothing but pure fucking idiocy on my part can expect you to make that kind of sacrifice for me. But you know what? I still thought it. I still think it every day. That's the only thing that's kept my head above water out here. Some stupid fucking hope that you still care about me."

It must be the full minute, or maybe five, of utter silence that breaks me from that manic state. Just watching myself on the monitor, breathing heavily and coming to terms with the broken freak on screen. Yes, because this is going to make a great message. I rub my face, trying to find some calm, rational part of my brain. "That's why I caught myself earlier on that stalker joke," I continue slowly. "I almost said I was still your boyfriend, but… I didn't want you think I'd lost it and became obsessed with you. Didn't want to lose you over some creepy joke. Guess that ship has sailed.

"But, I'd… I'd like to think we're still together, baby girl. It might be nuts, but I didn't give up on us. I still care about you so much, want to have you back so badly that I can't let us go. We were special. You are special to me. Nothing has made me feel as peaceful as you do. My mind keeps going back to that when it wants to escape. Just drift back to the times when my baby girl was with me, and that was all that mattered in this whole galaxy."

I rub my left eye, trying to quell its exhausted swelling. "You know what I can't shake? That one thing in particular that's just etched into my brain like a tattoo? I keep thinking about that second morning of our leave. When we just laid there in a half-nap, with your suit gone and me holding you. That's it. When it gets quiet for a few moments, and I try to forget how screwed up everything is, that picture right there. The soft skin along your sides, the rhythm to your breath and heartbeat. How you knew just when to kiss me. How weak I let myself get, and how you just… accepted me. Even if it didn't exactly meet the requirements I set during our talks, that was the closest thing to love I've ever had. That's how much you mean to me, baby girl. Six months later, and all I can think of is how close I was to saying those words. So yeah… I think we're still a couple… There it is. I don't know what you're doing right now, so do what you want with that."

I lean back and close my eyes. They want to stay like that, but I have to fight that urge. Just a few more minutes. Come on, Shepard. They hesitantly open, wary of the cabin's light. Almost there. "Alright. The last topic shouldn't become so… melodramatic. Sorry about that." The chair creaks slightly as I face the screen again. "And before you worry, I'm going to bed right after this. I should be able to get a decent night's sleep tonight, barring Mordin blowing something else up or another Krogan attempt to silence his singing. I'll check this thing every now and again, see if you got this. I hope you do, but… moving on."

The final topic is the only one with a question mark. Even when I wrote it down, I had no idea what I wanted to do with it. Just knew it needed to be covered. "An answer?" You'd think that'd be the easiest one of all. My elbows, propped up on my knees, keep my back upright enough for the vid.

"If you do get this message, I definitely want some kind of answer. But don't copy me, ok? Don't send me some video or an audio recording. Hell, even a written message would screw me up too. I know it sounds weird, but you know how I get. No matter what you say, I will analyze the whole thing. I'll start thinking the number of breaths you took is some secret message that you're in trouble. I'll start imagining hull breaches or animal attacks or Reaper invasions. You get the idea.

"That, and I don't want… us to be settled through a couple of messages. If you've moved on and want out, I'll accept it. If you still want to be with me, best news I've heard all year. But I have to hear it face-to-face. I need there to be a clear conversation where we, or rather, where you decide where to go from here. We can't do that through this.

"Just send me something that tells me you got this. Just let me know you're still out there. Let me know that I'm not sending this off for the ghosts of cyberspace, that you heard me. Don't tell me about the Quarians, or you, us, anything. I just… I want to know my baby girl is still somewhere I can find her, ok? I know you. I know you can think of something.

"I miss you, Tali. Please, stay safe out there, baby girl." My hand finally works over to the end button. A slight buzz of haptic feedback makes my finger tingle. A small spinning circle shows Liara's program working, the video becoming a message or attachment before being sent to every corner of the galaxy we could think of. Here's hoping it works.

With a mouthful of water, I slurp down the doc's pills and instantly feel the drowsiness kick my ass. My shoes and hoody return to the foot of my bed, with my shirt flying over to the hamper. The lights cut out automatically as I curl under my sheets. My stereo kicks in softly too, the song of the month playing again. Hmm… If I'd thought about it, I could've added it to the messages. Modding Liara's program wouldn't have taken more than five minutes. It'd be fitting, if she's having as much trouble sleeping as I am. Glory of hindsight.

 _Just give it one more try to a lullaby and turn this up on the radio. If you can hear me now, I'm reaching out to let you know that you're not alone. And if you can't tell, I'm scared as Hell 'cause I can't get you on the telephone. So just close your eyes. Honey, here comes a lullaby. Your very own lullaby._

The next morning arrives too quickly, as usual, and brings the normal ailments. The pills gave me cotton mouth again, and a slight sensitivity to light. I ignore that and everything else until I get through with the shower. No point in looking at anything important in a daze anyway. When I exit in my N7 hoody and jeans, I feel functional enough.

The desktop's beeping screen shows '15,' the number of messages sent to me in the last five hours. First three are spam, which EDI really needs to start blocking. Three from Hackett, detailing the usage of the resources and manpower I've rounded up for him. A fourth from him, requesting support in Benning, wherever the Hell that is. Have to stop by there and get shot at some more. Four more are crew reports on upgrades and repairs. Three of the final four are thank you messages from civilians and soldiers alike. I think EDI's forwarding them in some attempt at a pep talk.

The last one gives me pause. Blank message, and I mean blank. No subject line, body text, or even a sender address. Someone got into the privileges of a server to get this through, unless my desktop's bugging out. The only thing the message has is a little attachment icon. An audio file.

 _If I could find assurance to leave you behind, I know my better half would fade..._

She's still out there...


End file.
